


Two Peas in a Pod

by dramady, jeck



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 16:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor and Murphy are twins. Two peas in a pod. Nothing comes between them. </p><p>(ages 7-19)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Peas in a Pod

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not ours; please don't sue.

[Age 7]

Childhood was Ireland, and rolling hills and everyone knowing Connor and Murphy's names, those names always being called after them as they ran between houses, chasing a dog, a ball, each other. School was short pants and white shirts and ominous Irish nuns dressed in black with sharp words, sharp fingers and the sharp snap of the ruler on knuckles. Murphy had trouble keeping his shirt tucked in in back and when the nuns (penguins, they called them when they were feeling particularly abused), would go after him, Connor would say something and all it ever did was get the both of them in trouble, with prayers for their everloving souls, instructions to say twenty Hail Marys and five Rosaries, all the way through.

That wasn't even when they would fight, either each other or other boys. Bruised knuckles, scraped knees, even the occasional black eye. Then it was their ma who would shout about how they couldn't do anything right, took right after their father that way, that they were surely going to Hell. All this she'd say before she started drinking, too.

Late at night, in the room they shared, Connor would lie on his back, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. "I bet when we're ten, they won't yell at us as much." Ten was three years away; it felt like ages.

Murphy scoffed from the other side of the room, his body curled to his side, looking at Connor even in the gloom of their room. "I don't think that'll change, Connor." He was convinced they'd be yelled at all the time. Forever. Damned to hell, they were. "You think it'll change?" He asked, even in the dark his brows were drawn.

"Maybe when we're bigger." Connor rolled to his side too and after a minute, he scooted back, back against the cool wall if Murphy wanted to come lie with him. It was more comfortable that way sometimes.

And most times Murphy would find his way next to Connor. Not yet though. "How big do we 'ave to be?" Murphy asked, already beginning to kick the quilt from his body. "Ten is too long. Next year?"

"Aye, next year. We'll be bigger next year. That fucker - " Connor silently crossed himself for cursing. "Regan O'Roarke will quit comin' after us, too, gettin' us in trouble."

"The asshole," Murphy said it whispered, then he looked around as if checking to make sure no one but Connor heard him curse. He then got up, hissing at the cold floor before crawling in beside his brother.

"Regan an' fuckin’ Seamus." He laid down facing Connor. "Does it still hurt?" Murphy's little stubby fingers touched Connor's temple, his face in a frown.

"Only when you poke at it!" Connor hissed, batting Murphy's hand away. Now it hurt, like it was beating like his heart beat. But he sighed. "I hate Seamus." Another sign of the cross, then he rested his hand on Murphy's side. It made him feel better.

Murphy watched Connor's face and then he was grinning slowly. "I gave him a pretty good shiner, eh? Respected the hell out of 'im." He lifted his fist that still bore straight welts from the ruler that was slapped across the back of his hand. Connor would have done the same if it were him. That was just how it was.

At that, Connor grinned. "If he comes after us tomorrow, we'll give him hell, eh, Murph? You punch him in one eye, I'll punch him in the other. Then he won't be able to see us to chase us." It was genius!

"Yeah … yeah...!" Murphy was grinning and nodding. Connor was so smart to think of that. "I'll blind him with me fist." Again he lifted it, ignoring the painful throb of the punishment he received for throwing the punch to defend Connor.

"Then," Connor leaned in so that his forehead was touching Murphy's. "Then we'll kick him right in the balls." Ha. That would show Seamus who was boss. It hurt to be kicked in the balls!

Murphy started to snigger, quietly at first, getting louder that he had to cover his mouth with his hand. "You do Seamus. I'll do Regan." He pressed himself closer to Connor, whispering more quietly. "Gonna kick 'em in the balls til they can't walk." Yeah. He'd do that for Connor, with Connor. "No one messes with us."

"BOYS! YOU BETTER BE SLEEPIN'! DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE!"

Connor covered Murphy's mouth with a hand, giggling himself. Yeah, they'd do it. Together.

~~~~~~

[age 9]

They were huddled closer together at the side of the house, barely seen with all the trash and tall bushes. Murphy held the cigarette in his little fingers, eyes narrowed at it before looking at Connor. He swiped it from the pack his Ma left in the kitchen. "Go on. Light it. If Ma can do it, we can, too." He put the roll to his lips.

"Shut up! I can do it!" Connor retorted, even if he was nervous. He held up the lighter they'd found and flicked it. It took him three times to light it, then he held it under the cigarette. "C'mon, suck."

So, Murphy did and he sucked hard, pulling his head back, his mouth closed right before he hacked out a cough right at Connor's face. "Fuck!" He couldn't stop coughing, eyes beginning to water and his arms were flailing that he dropped the cigarette on the ground. "Shite! Connor! I'm dyin'!"

"What the hell are you doin'!" Connor scrambled for the cigarette, pulling it out of the dirt and brushing at it, burning his fingers in the process. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and sucked, too. But at least he had the sense to grab the cigarette as he started to hack hard enough to feel like he was going to cough up a lung.

"How the hell does Ma do this?" Murphy asked, scowling at Connor but his hand began to rub his back. He then wrapped his hand around Connor's wrist and used that to put the cigarette back in his mouth. He tried again, not sucking in too much air this time. "Shite!" He said that while smoke escaped his mouth, not coughing too much this time.

Between the two of them, they smoked it down to the filter and Connor made a show of stubbing it under his shoe like he'd seen the older boys do. He was still coughing a little but he grinned at Murphy. They were grown up now, for sure.

Murphy grinned back, then he wrapped his arm around Connor's shoulder leading his brother back in the house. "Think we should try the whiskey next," he suggested, nodding sagely, too. "Just like Aidan next door. Smokin' an' drinkin'."

"Aye. Then nobody'll mess with us." Since they were still a little small for their age. "And if they do, we'll just kick 'em in the balls," Connor added.

Of course, they didn't plan on getting dragged by their ears to their rooms with no dinner for smoking; they didn't know ma would be able to smell it on them!

Connor sulked on his bed, kicking at nothing. Their ma always got mad at them. Always. "One day, we'll run away," he decided. "Just you and me. We'll go to … to … America!"

"Yeah?" Murphy looked at Connor with a scowl, his hand on his empty belly; it was growling. "How'd you reckon we do that? Swim?" He tossed his pillow at Connor's head.

Catching the pillow, Connor threw it back, aiming for his head. "We can stow away on a boat," he snorted. Obviously. Murphy was stupid not to think of that.

"Stow away? What about food, huh?" Murphy was _hungry_ and it didn't help that food was right outside their door and he could _smell_ it. "How long does it take to get to America? Three months?" He put the pillow he caught back under his head, flopping down with a growl.

"I don't know!" Scowling, Connor laid back too. His stomach was growling as well and he sighed. "What're you mad at me about?! It's not my fault!" If Murph was closer, Connor would kick him. Hard.

Even if he wanted to blame Connor, Murphy knew it wasn't his fault so he huffed then turned, laying on his side, his back to Connor, legs curled near his chest. "When can we go?" He asked, voice muffled by the pillow.

Connor shrugged, even if Murph couldn't see it. "Maybe when we're twelve." They'd be big enough, then. And then they'd smoke if they wanted, and drink whiskey if they wanted and go to church if they wanted. "If not then, then when we're thirteen, for certain."

Murphy turned his head to look at Connor to make sure he meant what he said. That was all it took, really. It was like they were passing words without saying anything. Murphy nodded. "Okay." Then he sat up. Pointing to the door. "Want me to sneak out?" Get them food. He was pretty good at hiding and sneaking around.

Getting up, Connor tiptoed to the door, pressing his ear to it. Murph was good at sneaking, Connor was good at the planning, at knowing when and how. Even as he listened, he looked at Murph. A minute passed like this, then another and he nodded, opening the door so that it wouldn't squeak.

A nod and then Murphy disappeared through the small cracked opening Connor gave him. Their Ma would be drinking and cooking so she wouldn't notice when Murphy grabbed some bread and cheese.

He didn't even have to knock. Murphy knew Connor was watching out and just as he neared, the door opened just a crack, enough to let him back in.

Connor clapped him on the shoulder, grinning broadly. Then they camped out on his bed, the bread and cheese on the duvet between them. "We could be spies," Connor whispered, grinning with stuffed cheeks. "Steal money and gold."

"Yeah." Murphy was nodding enthusiastically. "Just like --" he was snapping his fingers trying to think of who, pointing at Connor when he said, "Sean Connery! Double O seven! We can even have guns and shite."

"Be all sophisticated," Connor agreed, pushing a piece of cheese into Murphy's mouth. "Rich and have girls comin' after us all the time like the movies." Not that either of them cared much about girls, but there was Fiona at school who kept giving Connor notes with pink hearts on them.

"Don't forget fancy cars." What was he gonna do with girls? Murph wrinkled his nose at that. "...and they get to go all over the world, eh, Connor?" He was talking and eating at the same time. "We can do whatever the fuck we want..." The realization hit Murphy suddenly and his eyes blew wide.

"Aye." Connor was grinning too. "We can … be pirates. Or cowboys. And never have the Sisters hittin' us anymore." It sounded great. He laid back on the bed, arm pillowing his head as he imagined how good their lives would be.

"Yea... an' Seamus can suck it." Murphy sniggered, lying down beside Connor, looking at the ceiling. It was going to be great because they were going to do it together. 

~~~~

[age 12]

Connor and Murph sat at the top of the bleachers of the football field, watching the practices from on high, smoking ciggies they stole from their Ma's purse. "Watch," Connor said, elbowing his brother. Just as the girl's rugby team bent over.

"What the fuck are ya doing?" Murphy shoved Connor. Hard. That elbow hit his rib and it _hurt_. "I thought you were a tit man. Why are you looking at their arses, you arse." He leaned back and took a deep toke of his cigarette.

"You can see their little white panties," Connor noted, pointing with the hand that had the cigarette pinched between his first two fingers. "Not that I don't like tits. Did you see Sonya McAlevy's shirt? Fuckin' tight."

"How can I miss it? Her nipples keep pointin' at me. I don't think she's even wearin' a bra," Murphy said with a nod. He turned his head, looking away from the women to watch Connor. "How the fuck do ya know they're wearin' white panties?" He put a hand on Connor's shoulders and _shoved_.

"Because they're students at Catholic school, Murph," Connor snorted, shoving an elbow back, aiming for his brother's ribs. "Even if they're sluts, their mothers will still buy them white panties!"

Murphy laughed, shaking his head. "You're a fucking pervert. Thinking of panties. Ma's got white panties. Look at those." He kept laughing even while he was rubbing his side. "And quit shoving me!" He shoved back. Again.

That was it. Connor turned, tackling Murphy back against seat. "Don't talk about Ma's panties!" he shouted, threatening to punch him right in the face. "That's _disgusting_."

" _You_ were talking about panties. I just happen to mention Ma." Murphy reasoned, not even flinching that Connor's got his fist near his face. "She's got bras too, you know?" He was trying not to laugh while pushing on Connor and making sure he didn't drop his cigarette.

"You're such an arsehole!" But when it came down to it, Connor couldn't punch Murphy in the face. So he went for his neck, his own cigarette falling away.

Murphy made a strangled noise, his eyes dangerously narrowed even when he was coughing, clutching his neck. "Fuck you! Fuck! You!" And then he pushed Connor hard enough that Murphy fell right on his lap, straddling him, throwing punch after punch at his chest, his arms (yeah, not the face either). "Asshole!"

The fight grew more vicious as neither of the boys would back down. When they finally broke apart, they were both bleeding. Connor sat back, glaring at his brother, arming blood away from the corner of his mouth. "Now who's the asshole, eh?"

"You're still the asshole." But Murphy's voice wasn't as harsh even if he was side-eyeing his brother. He looked down at his hands, picking at the gravel that embedded itself on his scratched and bleeding palm.

They were quiet for a while, breathing hard and then Murphy looked over at Connor again. "You wanna go raid Ma's liquor? Bet you I can grab us a full bottle." One corner of his lips lifted.

"Nah." They'd done that the week before and had thrown up a lot. It had been disgusting. Connor looked back out at the fields and the girl's team was gone, replaced by the men's rugby team. Fuck. He thwacked Murphy with the back of his hand. "We missed the panties cuz you're an asshole!"

"Oow!" Murphy rubbed the back of his head. "The fuck was that for? You can go look at that team's white briefs. It's still white!" Just for good measure he backhanded Connor on the chest.

"What, are you _gay_?!" Connor sneered, turning on him. "I bet you're gay. I bet you wanna watch the boys, getting a woody just watchin'."

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! I'm not gay you motherfucker!" And even if at twelve and they were twins, Murphy wasn't exactly built like Connor but still, he was lithe enough to pounce again and hit Connor with a fist to the stomach.

By the time they staggered home, both of them were far worse for wear and not even looking at each other. A silent supper with Ma looking at them both all squinty-eyed. Even after brushing his teeth, Connor climbed into bed, he grunted; everything hurt.

Murphy sat at the edge of his bed facing Connor and he was looking, trying not to wince. It was like he was waiting for something because he didn't move, just looking with his eyes slitted, slowly blinking.

"What?!" Connor snapped, facing away from him. "Quit starin' at me. Can feel it." He huffed out a sigh, arm over his eyes.

It went quiet after the rustling of Connor's sheets when he moved and then near his face he'd hear Murphy's voice, low, whispered. "Hey. You okay?" He asked, sitting on the edge of Connor's bed.

"That was a dirty hit," Connor told him. "Ya don't hit someone in the kidneys." He rolled to his back to glare at him. "I don't care if you're gay."

And maybe he smirked a little bit.

"Shut up about me being gay!" And Murphy had already pulled his arm back, hand closed in a fist and ready to strike but he was still staring at Connor until he dropped his arm down again. "If ya didn't wanna get hit you should've blocked better."

"Fuck you." It came out tired. "Not like you don't think about it. Sex, I mean." Connor sighed, eyes on the ceiling. "I think about it all the time. Get a fuckin' hard-on when the wind blows funny."

"Then jerk off," Murphy said with a shrug. "Don't you do that shit in the shower?" He was looking at Connor like he was weird.

"Is that why the loo always smells funky? You're disgusting, Murph. Gonna go to Hell or go blind you do that shit enough," Connor teased, though it came out sounding tired, and maybe something else, too.

"Shut up. Do you see me goin blind?" He held his arms out. "There's nothing wrong with it, Connor. It - uh - feels good." Murphy looked away, shrugging, his voice more quiet now.

"I've jerked off, jerk-off," Connor retorted, smacking at him. "I know how it feels." And even if he blushed, he asked, " … you wanna do it now?"

"What? Here?" On Connor's bed? Murphy looked at him and then he climbed in without invitation, settling with his back to the wall and legs apart. "Sure." Murph grinned.

"Almost like you been waitin' for an invitation," laughed Connor. He made sure the lamp was off, then, with a look at his brother, pushed his pajama bottoms down around his knees, chuckle-whispering, "c'mon, Murph. Bet your dick is small. Jerkin' off won't make it bigger."

"Bet you my dick is bigger than yours," he retorted, wiggling out of his pajamas, even kicking it off then over the side of the bed to the floor. Murphy looked at Connor, then his lap, before he looked down at his own, fingers already curling around his length. "Shit," he hissed.

"Quiet!" Connor hissed. "Don't want Ma walkin' in, do ya?" But he started stroking himself, too and his head fell back, eyes closed. "Fuck," he whispered. His knee fell against Murph's.

Connor was right, so, Murphy bit his bottom lip while he stroked his dick, his eyes flicking to the side to watch his brother. He couldn't help himself, though, because Murphy was slowly writhing, his hips moving while he pulled and tugged himself to hardness. "Fuck... oh, God!"

"Be _quiet_." It was an order. Connor turned his head and stared Murphy down. For some reason, that made his dick harder. "Bet you come before I do," he challenged, not looking away. But his back was arching, it felt so good.

Murphy wasn't one to turn down a bet so with a look and a slightly quivering smirk, he started to stroke faster. It felt so good - so fucking good - that he couldn't help turning his head and pressing his forehead against Connor's shoulder. He tried to muffle his sounds, lips touching Connor's skin. "Fuck..."

On instinct, Connor turned, a leg hooking with Murphy's, even as he jerked himself, faster, too. His cheek rested against his brother's temple and all his cuts and bruises ached, but he didn't care.

The ache was different now. It was like his whole body was burning. Murphy could feel the heat turn to sweat on his skin, his leg becoming tangled with Connor's while both their harsh breath mixed.

"Fuck, Connor - I think I'm gonna - I'm --" He wasn't sure what he was feeling but he couldn't stop stroking at the same time he wanted to get closer to Connor, too. "Oh shi--!"

"Shut up!" Connor did the only thing he could do, use his mouth to cover Murphy's, hands too busy bracing himself, jerking himself off. It was good, too, cuz he was coming, his whole body moving with it, sounds coming out a stifled "huh-huh - huh - !"

Murphy's mouth was moving over Connor's because he was moaning into his mouth, breathing his air in his lungs while he came, body shuddering. Barely anything spurted out of him but it still felt fucking good that Murph didn't pull away from Connor just yet, even when he opened his eyes and tried to look, their lips still locked with each other.

Connor pulled away slowly, dazed and flushed. He looked at his brother and didn't have to say anything. This was their secret. They'd have to confess it come Saturday, but no one else but God needed to know.

Murphy pulled back just as slowly,his eyes slowly widening, staring at Connor. He wasn't sure about everything that happened only that it was good. Really good. "Holy shite." Yeah, they have to confess this. "We're going to Hell..." He kept staring at Connor.

At that, Connor shook his head. "God'll forgive us if we confess. We aren't goin' ta Hell." But he held up his sticky hand and he grinned. That had been fucking amazing. "Bet you can't do it again...."

~~~~~

[age 15]

Oy! It was a fucking accident, okay?! How would Murphy know that Connor was jerking off in their room? It was the last thing he expected when he walked in.

"Fuck! What the hell?" He glared at Connor, arms outstretched. "I thought you were out with that bird?" Some girl. But then there were lots of girls for Connor.

"Shut the fuckin' door!" Connor was too far along to stop, all right?! "Shut - ah, fuck." His head fell back, legs spread, heels digging into the bed. "She gave me blue balls!" Stopping just as he got his hand up under her knickers!

Murphy sniggered but his eyes went to Connor's hand, watching it move rhythmically over his cock. It was like he was mesmerized. "Fuckin' tease, eh?"

"Fuckin' cocktease, yeah," Connor gasped, watching Murphy watched him. His hand slowed on his dick, even if that was torture; he was so fucking _hard_ , needing to come so _bad_. "Got to touch her titties but went for her pussy and she slapped her legs together like a fuckin' trap." He pulled in a breath then canted his head back. "Gonna just stare or do somethin' about it?"

Connor didn't need to ask him twice. Already Murphy was pulling off his shirt then he was pushing his jeans down while toeing off his shoes and reaching for the lock on the door. He finally jumped in bed to join Connor, already hard from watching his brother, his hand reaching over to wrap around Connor's moving hand. "Like that?"

"Ah, fuck, yeah." Connor reached up over his head, gripping the slats of his headboard as he watched Murphy jerk him off, chin to his chest. "Put yer mouth on it, Murph," he panted. "C'mon. Suck it. Then I'll do you." The muscles in his legs were cording, toes curling.

"I'm not gonna fuckin' suck it? I don't even know where it's been." Murph glared at Connor but his hand kept moving and maybe his cock twitched and his mouth watered a bit. Fuck. "You ever got your dick sucked before?" He wondered because of the pornos they'd snuck in their room.

"Don'tcha think I would'a told ya if I did? Murph, c'm _on_." Yeah, they'd seen the girly mags with them holding the bloke's big cock and licking it like a fucking popsicle. "Dick's been in my shorts." Connor reached out, hand on Murphy's head, pushing it down, toward his erection.

Murphy slapped Connor's hand away but he kept lowering his head. It wasn't as if they hadn't tasted their own come (or each other's) before, just not sucking on a cock. So, with a bit of hesitation, Murph stuck his tongue out and gingerly licked the head of Connor's cock.

It jerked under his tongue and Connor sucked in a breath, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Another lick and then Murphy flicked his eyes up to look at Connor, saw his face, and it made his cock harden even more between his legs. Still with his eyes fixed on his brother, he parted his lips and took the head in his mouth, tongue pressed over it.

"Fu-u-u-ck," Connor breathed out, eyes wide and pupil-blown, locked on Murphy's. This was better than Sonya would've done, he knew. His cock jumped again, in Murphy's mouth and his hand was still in his brother's hair, tightening slowly to a fist. But he didn't push.

Fucker's dick didn't really taste bad which was what Murphy expected, and it didn't feel so odd in his mouth, too. Whatever was leaking out of Connor was kind of bitter and salty that kind of made Murphy want to do this shit more. He slowly went deeper, _deeper_ , just like in those movies they shouldn't have seen. (Oy! They confessed that!)

Hand palmed over his head, Connor watched with slitted eyes, sounds of all kinds coming out of his mouth, all encouraging, mostly Murphy's name. The deeper he took him, the more Connor groaned. "Fuck, Murph. Fuck. Fuck." Oh yeah. They were gonna do this shit more. That was for certain!

Even later, when it was his turn to try, holding the base of his brother's dick in his hand and sucking on the head. He kept flicking his eyes up to Murphy's face to see.

Murphy sat there stiffly, body tense, his dick even tenser, harder. He could feel it pulsing in Connor's hand. His eyes were fixed on his brother, his legs wide apart, his hands already fisting the sheets on either side of him. "Do it, Connor. I fucking did you, now it's my turn."

"I'm doin' it! Bossy bugger!" Just for that, Connor ducked his head and stuck the whole of Murphy's cock in his mouth, all the way to where he could feel the head butt against the back of his throat! And he didn't even gag. Then he started to bob his head like Murph had.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!" And even as his hips bucked, Murphy was well aware of what he said, making a quick sign of the cross then his hand landed on the back of Connor's head. "Fuck that feels--!" He moaned.

"You gotta be fuckin' quiet!" Fuck! Connor glared. "Keep shoutin' and I'll stuff my dick back in yer mouth. At least then you were quiet!" Of course, his cock twitched at that! But he reached up, instead, hand over his brother's mouth as he started to suck him down again. It was pretty great to make Murphy lose it, truth told.

Murphy would struggle if he could, but what Connor was doing made his whole body lose control, trembling on its own. He was panting hard, too, because that hand was making it hard to breathe. His dick felt hard and wet, and whatever the fuck Connor was doing with his tongue made Murphy want to spill and scream. He muffled curses under Connor's hand.

That was what made them sixty-nine the first time, honestly. To fucking keep Murphy quiet. But then Connor found out what it was like to lie over his brother, to fuck his mouth like that, to rock his hips. It gave him the taste for it. The desire for it. He panted around Murphy's dick, sweat forming in the small of his back. This was almost like fucking.

They'd have a lot to confess to this week.

But things didn't stop there.

After one of those jerking and sucking off sessions, both of them had fallen asleep, Murphy right there on Connor's bed, spooned against Connor's chest. He woke up with a start, rubbing at his eyes that narrowed suddenly. "The fuck?!" He slowly moved his hips side to side, feeling Connor _hard_ right up against his arse. Shh. Don't tell but feeling that made Murphy hard suddenly, too.

"Shhh," Connor hissed, awake suddenly, too, feeling his dick between Murphy's ass cheeks. "Don't wake Ma." And he thrust, just a little, rocking his hips to feel the friction.

They'd seen gay pornos too, knew that guys fucked each other up the ass. Connor's breath caught and he bit lightly against Murphy's shoulder as he rocked his hips again, feeling his cock against his brother's balls.

"The fuck are you doing?" Murphy whisper-yelled in protest, a hand going to Connor's hip to stop him from moving. "You're not going to stick that thing in my arse." But it was rubbing on something as Connor moved and it startled Murphy when he quietly whimpered. "Fuck."

"The gays like it," Connor whispered, hips rocking again. "One way to not be a virgin anymore, Murph," he teased, reaching around to jerk him off. This felt dirty and hot and he was already breathing heavier; they weren't even fucking!

But it was almost like fucking only Murphy was the one being fucked. Connor sure was moving like he was fucking him up the ass but once his hand was around Murph's dick, he stopped thinking. All he could do was _feel_ and it felt too fucking good that he started to rock back into Connor whose dick slid between his pressed legs and under his balls. Faster, faster, and then his arse was slapping against Connor's hips.

And Connor was hard enough that, well, one shift of the hips and suddenly, he _was_ fucking Murphy's ass. And it was tight and hot and a little rough, truth told, but that didn't even last long because with the sudden clench, Connor was coming, biting Murphy's shoulder to keep from shouting. Holy FUCK! They'd busted their cherries!

"Fuck you! Fuck! Y--!" Murphy cursed and he was struggling to get away from Connor who had such a tight hold on him. It fucking _hurt_ but at the same time Connor's hand tightened around his dick and the movement made him jerk then come all over his brother's hand. "Fuck you …" But it was said breathless and quivering.

"Don't be mad, Murph. Oh, fuck." It took Connor a second to catch his breath, but he pulled his hips back and rolled Murph to his back to look at his face, touch his face. "Don't be mad." He felt a wash of emotion, deep and hot, rush through him, as he touched Murphy's face, his mouth. Then Connor kissed him, holding his chin to keep him from jerking away.

Connor did that because he knew Murphy would not only jerk away but likely throw a punch. But the kiss came unexpected (along with everything else that just happened), that Murphy stopped struggling, instead parting his lips. His tongue flicked against Connor's lips, Murphy becoming more breathless but deep in his chest he didn't want Connor to stop.

They didn't kiss a lot. Blokes kissed girls.

But after what happened, it felt right and Connor could make sure Murphy was all right. Make sure, too, he'd want to do that again. Unlike most everything else, Connor's mouth against Murphy's was gentle, hand around his chin, gentle but firm too. Murphy was his brother. There was no one else in his life like Murph. Two peas in a pod they were. Shared everything now. Everything.

All the fight was out of Murphy by the time that Connor pulled back. He was staring hazily at his brother, his chest heaving, needing to breathe but he didn't look away. No fucking way he was going to admit that that was hot and that it made him feel things in his chest and deep in his belly.

But it didn't last long because suddenly Murphy clocked Connor a good one right under the chin. "Fucker, that _hurt_."

Connor rubbed at his jaw, scowling at Murphy, even if he maybe deserved that.

But on the way home from school, they stole some KY jelly.

~~~~

[age 16]

Fiona Wallace had great tits. Amazing tits. And she wore short skirts, too. And they were back behind the schoolyard, Connor and Murphy and Fiona and she was letting them feel her up. Connor shared a look with Murphy, a dark look, as he reached up under Fiona's skirt. "Murphy goes first," he told them both.

She was whimpering, and panting, kinda like those pornos and she nodded.

"Fuck yeah..." Both of Murphy's hands were kneading Fiona's tits even as he stared back at Connor. Those tits were fucking soft and he could feel her nipples pebbled against his palm. Hard as a rock, he moved his hips back and forth to rub his bulge against her thigh and toward Connor's hand lost under her skirt.

First, Connor rucked down her panties. She was wet there and he could feel where her hole was. He pushed his fingers up in her and Fiona cursed; it made Connor grin. He reached then for Murph's fly and pulled it open, pulling his dick out for him too. "Sack up," he told his brother. No getting a slut pregnant.

Murph's cock got even harder after Connor touched it and he groaned when he pulled back, watching his brother while fumbling for the condom from his pocket. He could barely get the shit on his dick, hands shaking.

"Fuck her with your fingers," he told Connor, buying time. This was the first time they were going to do this and Murphy was both excited and anxious at the same time.

Connor grinned and he pushed his fingers up into Fiona's pussy again. She was really fucking wet. Different from an ass for sure. "She's ready for ya, Murph," he said. Steady on.

Murphy was adamantly nodding his head, dragging his eyes from Connor and then he was grabbing his dick at the base, other hand pushing up Fiona's skirt. It took a bit of maneuvering and then Murphy was grunting, pushing inside her. "Fuck, Connor--! Damn that's hot and fucking _wet_."

"That's right." Connor kept his hand down there, feeling where Murphy was fucking into Fiona, feeling the slide of his dick. He found too the nub of nerves which made her squeal. "Good, Murph. Fuck her good."

Murphy did, hands grabbing Fiona's hips and he was thrusting, feeling the slap of skin on skin that jostled his balls and made pleasure shoot up his body. He was grunting with each push, his cock feeling the slickness, the tightness that had him throwing around moaned curses. "Fuck, Connor - oh, fuck, Connor--!" His fingers dug into her hips and he pounded into her, wanting to come so bad he was shaking.

Between the two of them, they were making quite the racket. Connor watched with hooded eyes, dick hard. He put a possessive hand in the small of Murphy's back and whispered in his ear. "Come on then. I'll have you later." Because Murph was _his_ brother.

Well that fucking did it. Just thinking of Connor and what he'd do with Murphy later and he was coming suddenly, spilling in the condom so hard that he thought he'd poke a hole in it. "FUCK! Connor!"

Sure Connor fucked Fiona too. It was their birthday present to each other, after all: a girl to share. And sure they were grinning about it on the way home, but after cake and presents (their first guns), when they were alone together, Connor took his time, fucking into Murphy real slow, no condom for them, breathing hot against his brother's neck.

Murphy was quiet this time, unlike the time with Fiona. He was breathing heavily, moving just as slow, turning his head to catch Connor's lips (it wasn't fucking kissing, not really), stifling the _whimpers_ that still left his lips. And with almost each thrust he would curse, then moan out Connor's name.

It wasn't kissing. It was sharing. Their secret, their connection. Fuck the world; it was between them and God - they'd stopped confessing this. When Murphy was pulled back against Connor's chest, the brothers could feel their hearts beat in time.

And like always, Murphy would reach out behind him, just so he was touching Connor, moving together (and they had gotten so good at that), breathing together, and yes, their hearts beating together, too. Murphy held Connor's hand and guided it to his cock, needing to feel the touch, to have Connor make him come. "Now … do it now … Connor..!"

Hand covering Murphy's cock, Connor whispered in his ear to fucking be quiet! Then he started to jerk him off like he was fucking him, just like he knew Murphy liked. They came together too.

Then the next morning, after Mass, they learned how to shoot.

~~~~

[age 19]

They did it. They stowed away on a boat. They paid someone handsomely to get them in, too. And there they were, housed between two tall stacks of cargo containers, sleeping bags on the cold deck, their packs were pillowed under their heads.

"What do you think America's like?" Murphy asked Connor as they passed the bottle of whiskey between them.

"All the girls look like the girls on Baywatch," Connor decided. "And all the guys look like Rambo." He could drink to that.

"Fuuuck." Murphy smirked, nodding his head. "They all have big tits, huh?" Then he scowled, smacking Connor upside the head but only after his brother finished taking a pull of their drink. Can't waste whiskey in a boat where they couldn't get any more now could they? "No they fuckin' don't all look like that." Even Murphy knew that.

"Oh you're an expert on all things America, are ya?" Connor scoffed. "Then tell me, smartarse. What're people like in America?"

"Like Charlie's Angels. Those birds are hot." Murphy nodded sagely then reached over for the bottle of whiskey. "Aye ... with guns." He kicked Connor for emphasis, smirking.

"What's the difference between that and Baywatch?" Except the guns. Which Connor had to agree was hot. He kicked Murphy back and handed over the whiskey.

"They kick arse." Said with a scoff since it was completely obvious. "The baywatch tities won't work where we're goin' you asshole. We're headed to Boston. What do they call it? Bean town. Lots of Irish there, eh?" He took the bottle and tipped his head back for a generous swig.

"Aye." And friends of the family, too, with the hope the boys wouldn't be too homesick.

Which worked, for the most part. Though a lot of the women didn't look like anyone on TV. But they got jobs and had a place to live, a shite walk-up that was cold in the winter and had no hot water. But at night when one of them would wake up, they would be touching in one way or the other.

Didn't matter if there was a small space between their mattresses laid out on the floor. Murphy would find himself in Connor's bed or Connor in his.

They wake up early every morning and they get dressed and head to church. Confessions, too, if needed, but there was no mention anymore about this special twin bond they shared and the things they did to each other.

After work, after they'd shower in the open bathroom, and if neither of them got distracted watching the other's arse soapy and naked, they'd head to McGinty's and have a shot or three of whiskey followed by a chaser of beer. It always took a while to get either of them drunk.

They made friends, too. Good friends. They called their Ma. But one thing never changed. First and foremost for Connor was Murphy. Always.

Like shit was going to change. Murphy would scoff at that.

So they worked together, went to church together, prayed and ate and played together. They'd sleep together, too, and they'd touch and fuck, and sometimes, when they were drunk enough, they'd kiss until it was hard to breathe.

They were _brothers_. Twins. Two peas in a pod. That was the way it was going to be, and the way it was going to stay.

In nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti.


End file.
